Kagami
— February 2024
Ruichi Sakamoto’s Kagami at the Roundhouse in London was more than an art experience, it tapped into one’s state of being. The performance was billed as being ‘Mixed Reality‘ in collaboration with Tin Drum.
Preparation for the performance at The Round House.
I wanted to write about the Kagami experience because creatively many of us hope to craft a deepened state of awareness within our art.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived at the Roundhouse so I went with open mind. My open mind brought a magnified experience. We were in the round of course; everyone was very quiet as we prepared, it was congregation-like as the VR headsets were handed out. It was group participation and yet, due to the VR, each person was one-to-one with the unfolding scene.
As the performance started, we were told to watch the virtual red cube oscillating at the centre of the room. There was a long and silent pause.
In the darkened space appeared the apparition of Sakamoto, suited and seated at his piano. The recital began. You could leave your seat and stand as close or as far away as you wished to the Japanese master of sound. One could walk right around and stand by him, watching his fingers as he played just for you, or hover at the edges of the space viewing from afar. No other figure was in view, no shadows of others even though you knew the auditorium was full of people. Only the pianist was visually present.
The space unfolded into moving visuals that enveloped us, the piano, the musician - above, below and beyond. We are presented with massing points of light, linear structures, cityscapes and landscapes, a snow-lined forest, and the earth suspended in the universe - whereupon I turned around to find myself in a nebula as the arresting music permeated my senses.
I’m afraid I melted when Sakamoto played Forbidden Colours, the track written for the film Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence starring David Bowie (1983). A vertical branch levitated above the piano, before tree roots appeared to grow from it, spreading and deepening beneath our feet. It was simply awesome and I am tingling as I write this.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I arrived at the Roundhouse so I went with open mind. My open mind brought a magnified experience. We were in the round of course; everyone was very quiet as we prepared, it was congregation-like as the VR headsets were handed out. It was group participation and yet, due to the VR, each person was one-to-one with the unfolding scene.
As the performance started, we were told to watch the virtual red cube oscillating at the centre of the room. There was a long and silent pause.
In the darkened space appeared the apparition of Sakamoto, suited and seated at his piano. The recital began. You could leave your seat and stand as close or as far away as you wished to the Japanese master of sound. One could walk right around and stand by him, watching his fingers as he played just for you, or hover at the edges of the space viewing from afar. No other figure was in view, no shadows of others even though you knew the auditorium was full of people. Only the pianist was visually present.
The space unfolded into moving visuals that enveloped us, the piano, the musician - above, below and beyond. We are presented with massing points of light, linear structures, cityscapes and landscapes, a snow-lined forest, and the earth suspended in the universe - whereupon I turned around to find myself in a nebula as the arresting music permeated my senses.
I’m afraid I melted when Sakamoto played Forbidden Colours, the track written for the film Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence starring David Bowie (1983). A vertical branch levitated above the piano, before tree roots appeared to grow from it, spreading and deepening beneath our feet. It was simply awesome and I am tingling as I write this.
A young Ruichi Sakamoto.
Sakamoto was always extraordinarily beautiful and as an older man he was still strikingly handsome. I remember being captivated by the romantic sounds of the 80’s pop group Japan. His white hair moving gently as he spoke or played. He was captured there forever it seemed in this monochromatic VR portrait, where the description of his sound was so powerfully yet gently interpreted within the virtual image.
We were told that the performance was not generated with a specific technology in mind.
The performance succeeded in connecting to one’s feelings in a spiritual dialogue, which felt perfect at this time of great fragmentation in the world.
We were told that the performance was not generated with a specific technology in mind.
The performance succeeded in connecting to one’s feelings in a spiritual dialogue, which felt perfect at this time of great fragmentation in the world.
